The Colonial Tradewind Swizzle

The moral of this week is: Take things literally. Yesterday I blogged about my Breakfast of Champions, an original cocktail o’mine that bears more than a passing resemblance to a Moon Over My Hammy at Denny’s – and yes, it’s a little embarrassing for a high-functioning alcoholic mature mixologist to admit to such levels of kitsch. Today’s recipe, while not quite so blatant, was likewise created via an over-the-top approach.

The basic premise was to construct a swizzle using the sweetest ingredients we (Sean and I) could think of, but somehow manipulate them into a drink that tasted better than, say, a shot of insulin with a Blow Pop chaser. Our secondary goal was to make a juice-less swizzle — which, according to rather strict definitions I’ve found and mentioned here before, means it technically wouldn’t be a swizzle, but whatevs — as our at-home citrus stock was low.

The Colonial Tradewind Swizzle achieves that pucker-up tartness I love in any swizzle, and like all other swizzles I’ve enjoyed, I find that the crushed ice actually helps by coaxing the imbiber to drink in short sips. (Try downing a swizzle like a regular cocktail, with slightly bigger gulps, and chances are it’ll suddenly seem overpowerfully saccharine.) I’m also quite jazzed that we finally found a recipe for our Fee BrothersFalernum (a kind of first-cousin to orgeat).

Combine all liquid ingredients in an ice-filled cocktail shaker and shake vigorously until you’ve created enough energy to power a toaster. Strain into a Pilsner glass that’s filled with crushed ice. Garnish with lime twist.